WrestleMom

Hayes, with a huge grin on his face, rubbed his hands in glee. "Now, you put your eye into that peep-hole and take a peek. Go on, she can't hear us, have fun with it, hee-hee."

I took a deep breath, got near the wall, leaned slowly against it, not wanting to make any noise and took a peek. I saw her from the back, her amazing curves, her gorgeous, golden brown skin, the water roaring down on her, from the top of her head, down to her amazing, perfectly formed ass. I was in heaven. I enjoyed the moment for a few more seconds...then she turned around. I got a good look at her and knew right away it was not Eve Torres in that shower, no, no...It was my very own mother!

I backed away, horrified at what I'd seen. I looked over at Hayes and saw him break into a horrible shrieking laughter. He pointed at me with tears in his eyes. I stood there, stunned. I quickly realised that I had been played by him.

"Oh my God!" he said in a shrill voice. "You, hahaha, you were, hahaha! Getting excited over your mom! Hahahahaha! Your mom! Hahaha, that is so fucked up! Hahahahaha!!! Your own mother! Oh fuck, hahaha! Oh shit! Hahaha, oh god, oh my lord, that is just too much."

After calming himself down, he slapped me on the shoulder and quipped, "No worries kid, I won't tell anyone, I'm not allowed to anyway. Oh shit, this may get me fucked again, ok, really, don't tell anyone," he then broke back into laughter, "Like you would! Hahahahaha! Oh that was too much, hahaha!" I watched as he walked off into the distance.

I quickly ran into a corner, sweating from head to toe, thinking about what had happened. I was shaken up by it, while feeling bad over the fact that I enjoyed it. It was one thing jerking-off to my mom's TV persona, but getting excited over her in person? It was new to me, as strange as that all sounds. I was also angry, angry at that fucking asshole Michael Hayes. I felt like kicking his ass! But that would have done no one any good, seeing as he was technically my mom's boss. He determined her future: I didn't wanna risk angering him.

After sitting and thinking about it for a while, I decided to forget it ever happened, just forget it and move on. Since Hayes was not telling anyone and I planned to never tell anyone either, I just wanted to pretend it never happened; I was determined to enjoy my time in the WWE and not let one moment ruin it.

***

My mom came over to me, waving as we got ready to leave the arena.

"Hey Lou, how was it?"

"Umm, yeah, fine," I tried not looking at her, I still felt majorly awkward.

"The boys treat you fine?"

"I guess, they were ok."

"Oh? I thought you'd be more excited."

"Well...your heroes never turn out to be what you expect."

"Aww," she patted me on the back, "It was the same for me when I got here. Come on Hun, let's go to the hotel."

"Ok, Mom."

While we drove, I looked out the window, trying to think about something other than the prank Hayes had pulled. By midnight, me and Mom got to our hotel, got separate rooms and went to sleep.

***

It was the next morning; I awoke early so that me and Mom could get to the arena on time. We followed the previous day's routine: Mom went to the locker rooms, I wandered around the arena. Whist in my walk, I went to the ringside area, there I observed the ring crew assembling the ring. Due to my background in construction, I noticed some errors they were making.

"Need any help?" I asked.

"What? What can you do?" asked the head of the crew, a white English man with a goatee.

"Well, I've been working construction since I was fourteen. I'm sure I can figure out how a wrestling ring works. I can help in some way."

"Really, kid?"

"Yeah, really."

"Ok kid, help put this pole up, let's see what you can do."

From then on I helped the ring crew out at each arena; it gave me something to do, it helped me feel like part of the team, not just some freeloader.

Later that night, as the show was closing up, I went to the catering area to see if there were any leftovers. As I took a piece of chicken from the catering table, a big booming voice bellowed at me, "Hey there!"

I dropped the chicken, then saw the Chairman of the WWE, the one and only Vince McMahon, coming up to me. He was a big, powerful guy with a huge presence and a pretty good physique for a guy in his mid-60's. He had short darkish-grey hair, very broad shoulders, and was wearing a dark blue suit. He looked pretty tired; his clothes were slightly dishevelled.

"I'm sorry, Sir, n-no one was around, so I thought it be ok."

"It's fine," he chuckled, "Help yourself, there's plenty."

I gazed in awe at the creator of the WWE. He made some coffee while giving me a puzzled look.

"You Tina's son, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Hmm, yes, I heard about what Hayes did, that whole deal with you and your mom."

"Yeah, that was really bad, really embarrassing. I'm sorry Sir, it will never happen again." I was not sure why I was apologizing, but I felt like I had to.

"Don't worry; I personally made sure that he won't tell another soul about what happened. I assure you, it's a guarantee. An incident that embarrassing is not something I want you to be burdened with."

"Thank you Sir, I really appreciate that, thanks"

"No problem...but," he lowered his voice, and nudged closer to me, "Go on, just between us guys, tell me: what ya think of it?"

"I'm ok with it now, I'm over it, it's cool, I'm ok."

"No, no, tell me what you thought of her," his voice suddenly took a more perverted tone. His expression changed from stoic to alert. I didn't know how to respond.

"Umm, Sir, that's my mother, you know--"

"She's a good-looking woman."

"She is."

"So you admit your mother is attractive?"

"I didn't say that, but yeah, she is."

"Well, what did you think of her? Were you aroused when you saw her in the shower?"

"I-I was at first 'cause I didn't think it was my mom--"

"So you were!"

"Yeah, but when I saw her face, I was not so into it--"

"But you were aroused by your naked mother in the shower, you have to admit that?"

"...Yeah?"

He paused for a moment as he thought to himself. "...This is good, really good, never in the history of the WWE have we had a WWE Diva with a son at your age, it's eighteen, correct?

"Yeah."

"Perfect!" he started talking really quickly: "She's a mother, a sexy mother. She can go down the ring, gyrating that body of hers, with the males in the audience knowing of her background, knowing that she has a son around their own age...Ohhhh...I like that, I like that a lot, it has such a great ring to it...sexy mother with a son of the legal age...it has never been done before, yes!" He put down his coffee, almost shaking in excitement. "But we have limits; there is only so many ways we can show her on TV. Gawd damn P.G!" He turned his back to me, then started mumbling to himself. "If only we...could get her in...Something raunchier than what we do now...not our magazine, not the website...Hmm...Something we can put her in...A magazine? A...European magazine? Hmm...That way, we could... I got it!"

He turned to me and gave me a very stern look: "You tell no one of this conversation, you hear me? No one. This thing with your mother, it is something I have wanted to do for years," he took out his phone and handed it to me. "Your number, put it in."

"My what?"

"Your number! Do it!"

I quickly put my number into his phone. He snatched it back and put it in his suit jacket. As he began to walk, he stopped, pointed at me and said, "You keep your phone with you at all times?"

"Umm...mostly, not all the time."

"Keep it with you at all times, I mean it: at all times." He then briskly walked off, probably hoping that no one saw him. That was one strange encounter.

I was not surprised at Vince McMahon's reaction; he was a well-known fan of incest, always trying to get an incest storyline into his programming, even going so far as to propose a storyline where he would have taken credit for his daughter Stephanie's pregnancy. Of course, these storylines ideas were shot-down.

After that day, me and Mom settled into a routine for the tour; we would come from the hotel, she would go to the locker rooms, I would go help the ring guys, then we would go to another hotel. This went on for three more days, till we went to France. Because all the wrestlers and staff were going to be in non-English speaking countries for the rest of the tour, they took us around Europe on tour buses. Me and Mom went on separate buses, but stayed in the same hotels. Little did I know that a huge game-changer was coming right up!

***

It was morning in Madrid, Spain. Me and Mom were ready to get on the buses when she suddenly got a phone call.

"Huh? What? Yes... So we wait for a--...Ok...He has to come with me? All right, well, ok...Bye."

"What is it, Mom?"

"They said I was going to have to be late for the show because they've booked me for a photoshoot."

"A what? How come?"

"Yeah, crazy, I know. They want you to come with me as well. They said that you were a minor!? Must have been some sorta mix-up or something...Well, Hun, this is better than you being all alone in Spain. You better come along."

"Umm...Ok..."

My mom and I waited an hour for a taxi to pick us up. When it arrived, we got in, and were driven to the studio.

"Hun," she said as we both sat in the car, "I don't know what this photoshoot is about, I think you better stay away from where the pictures get taken though, I don't think you wanna see me getting all undressed or nuthin'."

That got my motor going, "Oh um...yeah, sure, no problem," I wondered what her photoshoot was going to be like. When we got there, she was whisked away by one of the female assistants. Then, a male assistant approached me and asked, "You Louis Torrile?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Ah yes, we got a room for you to wait in, come this way."

I got taken to a nice lounge area. It had green walls, was small, compact. I sat on the black couch and flipped through some Spanish magazines. It was not two minutes after I had entered the room that I started feeling a buzz in my pants: my phone was ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hello, it's me," it was Vince McMahon. "I hope you're where I want you to be."

I was left speechless for a second, "Umm, I'm in, I'm in a photo studio."

"The lounge?"

"Yes, the lounge." I wondered what the hell was going on.

"Good, now, if you look to the left of the couch, you will see a black coat and hat."

I rummaged around the couch, and just as he had said, there was a black bomber jacket and black baseball cap there.

"I found it."

"Good, now put it on, and follow my instructions: Go right from here. Keep on going right till you see a door, then go through that door."

"Are you...Sir, are you going to make me watch my mom's photoshoot?"

"Why of course I am! You think I let you miss it? Now get going, tell me what you think of it later," he immediately hung-up the phone.

I put the jacket and hat on, opened the door, and followed Vince's instructions. I saw a blue door: I went through it. I was in a cramped, dark corner of the photo studio, in a place where no one would've spotted me. I looked around, saw a white backdrop, lighting guys, and some people milling around. They all talked in Spanish to each other before the photographer, a skinny bald guy with a well-trimmed goatee, said in broken English, "Okay, chop-chop, bring the lovely in!"

My mom walked over to him. She was wearing a long pink bathrobe.

"Okay lovely," he touched her shoulder, "Oh my, lovely indeed, you are just gorgeous! So adorable! Wowie! When I heard we had a wrestler, I expected a butch woman; you know, with big muscles and that-that, but you! You're a sexy little package, aren't you!?"

My mom's face turned red, "Aww, stop it, Hun! You're too much!"

He put his hand out for an effeminate handshake. "My name is Rodrigo and you are?"

"Tina," she responded to his handshake.

"Ok lovely, for you, I want an American-themed photoshoot! Lots of that, umm, what you call it? Americana! That's it! I want that all around! That good?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me, Hun."

"Great," he slapped his hands loudly, "Take her to wardrobe!"

My chest felt like it was about to explode as I waited in anticipation for her first outfit. Five minutes later, I heard the sound of bare feet smacking against a concrete floor: it was her.

She looked so different, yet so familiar, as I watched her from my vantage point. The cherry red lipstick, the blush on her cheeks, the light eye-shadow, her volumized hair: all of it made her look so much sexier. Mom was wearing a nondescript blue and white American Football jersey, totally bottomless, her sexy toned bare legs on display. Her shirt was small enough to get tantalising glimpses of her underwear.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she replied.

She tentatively stood in front of the white backdrop, her hands placed around her stomach.

"Now, now, don't be nervous, I wanna get the, the, the tiger out from you! You know, get you looking like a sexy, dominate woman! Pose for me, let me see it!" he took his camera out and started snapping.

Mom pulled her shirt down, smiled, turned a little to the left and right. After a few minutes, she got more comfortable, a broader smile spread across her face; she started playing to the camera by putting her hands on her hips and pointing.

"Sexy, sexy, gimme me more, my lovely."

She put her hands near her breasts, crumpled her shirt, rubbed her legs together, and made a kissy face towards the camera.

"Perfect, perfect! Little more, nice! Lovely!"

My mom then put her left hand at the bottom of her shirt, pulled it up, just a little, to reveal the tiny sexy white panties she had on underneath. They fitted snugly on her, with visible perspiration on her thighs. Then, she put her right index finger on the tip of her lips and put a sexy grin on her face: the kind of expression which just screamed "fuck me!"

"Great! Very great! Ok!" Rodrigo called over a male production assistant and gave him an order: "Get her in that outfit, she is ready for it, we can get so much out of it."

A woman put a robe on my mom and led her backstage. I was sweating bullets just watching! It was unbelievable, seeing her pose like a sexy model; it was like she was a different person, yet still the same! Hard to explain, but oh so hot. My hand had gone down my leg, almost on its own as I watched. No need to say what I was doing! When I saw my mom's next outfit, I almost imploded.

She wore a bikini-top which had an American flag imprinted on it; along with that she wore form-fitting, matching, stars-and-stripes boy-shorts. Her butt-cheeks jiggled nicely as she walked confidently to the white backdrop.

"All right, let's get this going!" she enthusiastically shouted to the crew.

"That's what I want to see!" responded Rodrigo.

She was given a set of American themed objects to hold. First, she was handed an apple pie, which she held in both hands, did a cute wink and posed as if she was serving it. After that, she was given an American football; she tossed that around and got all sweaty in the process.

I thought about how bizarre this all was. I had memoires of my mom giving me apple pies and tossing footballs to me, and there I was, watching her do those same things, but now she was in her underwear!

Lastly, Mom was given a rubber Lady Liberty torch; she held that high in her left hand, smiled, and gave a sexy salute.

"Okay, okay, Tina, are you ready?" asked Rodrigo.

"As I will ever be, Hun,"

She turned around, untied her bikini-top, took it off, quickly grabbed her breasts, turned back around and held her peachy breasts in a cross-arm position. The make-up woman went up to my mom and gently touched and brushed her chest, putting the final touches to her. My mom smiled to the camera, almost naked in a room full of people, fully confident with her toned body. Her body, shimmering from all the day's sweat, with the added glow of make-up making her radiate. She was quite limited with the poses she could do, so she just tossed her hair around and gave "fuck me" looks to the camera.

"Ok, one more from behind!" shouted Rodrigo.

My mom turned around and stuck her butt out. Her shorts were so tight that I could see a perfect outline of her round firm ass.

Rodrigo made a few more flashes of light appear from his camera, before he declared: "We are done! Quick, get her in a robe."

A woman put a robe over my mom and hurryingly took her to the back. Rodrigo went up to her, patted her on the shoulder, telling her she did well. The whole shoot, for me, was so intense, so amazing, seeing her transformed like that. If I was ever on the fence about her, I was not after that experience: she was a hot, sexy woman I would've liked to fuck -- even if was she my mom.

After the shoot, I ran back to the lounge. I then sent Vince a text message. I made sure it was vague enough so anyone but him who read it would not understand it. It said: "I'm with you on this one."

Me and Mom left the photo studio and were driven right to the show. Soon as she got in the car, she went on her cellphone. "What? The show has started already? What are we now? We're semi-main! Yeah...yeah I know, I don't get why they booked me on something so short notice...yeah, I'll see you Hun, bye." She put the phone down and looked at me in disbelief. "Can you believe they did this? What reason did they have to do this all last-minute?"

"I got no idea," I said with a smirk.

***

After the show had finished, I helped the ring-crew disassemble the ring. After finishing that hard job, I wandered around the locker room area, thinking about that super-sexy photoshoot. Then, I stopped in my tracks when I heard a familiar laugh.

"Hahaha! She can't have done that! Really?" It was my mom!

I hid myself behind a giant box and looked over to see what was going on. My mom was in her ring gear, the blue crop-top and tight pants. She was talking to a fellow wrestler who went by the name Batista. He was a part-Filipino, part-Greek giant muscle man with veins all around his body. He was wearing his trunks and boots, a sly smile on his face. Batista had a reputation of being a ladies' man, with his favourite breed being WWE Divas, of which my mom was one!

He was leaning against a wall as he spoke in that smooth baritone voice: "Yeah, yeah, I know what it's like. Kids, they can be such a handful."

"That could not be truer, Hun. But ya know, no matter what they do, you still love them."

He looked her right in the eyes, "I could not agree more, I could not agree more, you got it right."

"Well, I gotta go. Early trip and all."

"Oh yeah, yeah, me too, I'll be seeing you later."

"Bye, Hun."

"Bye," Batista nodded his head in approval, admiring her ass as she walked off. I could tell from the look in his eyes, he was scouting my mom as his next target! Not wanting my mom to become another notch on Batista's bedpost, I went up to him.

"Hey, Batista."

He gave me a slightly disgruntled look: "Can I help you with something?"

"Umm, yeah, sorta, umm, you see, how do I put this? Umm you know --"

"Go on, spit it out."

"You know that woman you were just talking to?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well," my palms got sweaty as he continued to stare a hole into me, "She's my...mom."

"Ok...so what?"

"Well, Dave --"

"Did you just call me Dave?"

Before I could respond, he cut me off, "Did you call me Dave? No one calls me that but my friends, are you my friend?"

"Umm--"

"No, don't answer, you are not my friend: do not call me Dave!"

"I'm sorry, it's just that, umm," my mind had left my body at that point: I was just rambling. "You know, she's like, oh you know, you do what you...do, and she's, like, my mom."